Don't be Difficult

Harry Potter walked arm in arm with Hermione Granger, his best friend of nearly eleven years, up the long, pebbled walkway that led to the Main Entrance of his Alma Mater. He took a moment to glance up at the cerulean blue sky - large white cumulus clouds absorbing most of the direct sunlight and keeping the day from being too warm. A light breeze was swirling around them and making the day seem almost too perfect. It would have been too, if not for the dispiriting sight that lay before them.

Hogwarts was half in ruins; the other half still standing proud as if defying anyone else to sully its majesty. Though it was not the first time Harry had seen the castle since that fateful day, it had never failed to shock and sadden him.

"I'm almost glad Ron isn't here," Hermione said, looking somewhat wistful as her mind drifted to her husband who was at home with their newborn.

"Yeah, he'd hate to see it in such a state. I guess it was a blessing in disguise that McGonagall didn't ask for him."

"Do you know who else she's asked to help?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure. I know that Parvati is going to be here, and Hannah Abbott I think. I'm not sure of anyone else though."

"Well, we're a bit early. It doesn't look as if anyone else is here yet. Professor McGonagall did say to meet her at the main entrance, right?"

"Yeah. It's nice out, do you fancy a quick walk through the gardens?"

"Mm, that'd be nice."

They changed their course slightly and headed towards the pathway that led to the small garden area along the west wall. They walked in silence, taking in their surroundings that had changed so much, yet stayed the same. Before they reached their destination, Harry was distracted by the soft crunching of gravel; the sound of another person making their way towards the Main Entrance. They turned to look at the newcomer.

Harry knew instantly who it was. There could be no mistaking that shock of blond hair, that confident gait, and that slim and narrow build.

"Is that who I think it is?" Hermione asked, looking up at Harry, a bit taken aback by the stunned look on Harry's face.

"Oh God," Harry mumbled.

"I...I didn't know he was, well, as powerful as we are. He must be though, for McGonagall to have requested him-," Hermione nudged his arm. "Harry? Are you alright?"

"Uh, yeah. Fine. Just a bit surprised. C'mon, we've still got some time to kill. I don't necessarily want to spend it chatting with Draco on the steps."

Harry did his best to hide the nervousness that was slowly but surely building up inside him. Why him? Why did he have to come? Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Hermione glancing at him every few minutes as they strolled amongst the rose bushes. He could see the unspoken question flickering across her expression.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Huh? Oh." She let out a soft laugh at her own obviousness. "Do, well, what I mean to say is, or ask rather-"

"You want to know if I've still got feelings for him?"

"Yeah." Hermione looked relieved at not having to ask it directly.

"Would it matter if I did? It's not like he ever knew about it, so there'd be no point in dwelling on it now."

"Oh, Harry, you do! After all this time?"

"I didn't say that!"

"You didn't have to. I saw it written all over your face the minute you saw him over there."

Harry just grunted. He half regretted ever confiding in Hermione back in their seventh year that he had developed a bit of a crush on Draco Malfoy. She had remained true to her word, however, and didn't share his burden (for that's exactly what it was) with Ron. Quite frankly, Harry would've preferred to take it to his grave, but it became unbearable when, during the Leaving Ball their final year, Draco had shown up alone and brooding. All Harry wanted to do was march up to him and kiss the blond out of his grief-induced misery. Hermione had tried to convince Harry that it was just a result of Harry taking pity on Draco because his father had just died. Harry didn't bother to correct her assumption that this was the first time he'd actually wanted to do that.

"Let's start heading back. Professor McGonagall must be there by now." Hermione turned the both of them around and started for the main entrance. "Did you look over the books I sent you about the creation of the enchanted ceiling?"

"Huh? Oh yeah. Thanks. McGonagall sent me some of the same ones, actually. Great minds..." Harry gave her a playful nudge. He did his best to hide his distraction at having to face Draco again after so many years.

They made their way up to the doors and was greeted by their former Deputy Headmistress, looking the same as always with her stern expression and tight bun. Aside from a few grays around the temples, she didn't look any different.

"Hello Harry, Hermione. So glad you could assist us with this daunting task. Come inside, the others are waiting."

Harry couldn't help but feel like she was about to take points from Gryffindor for their apparent tardiness. He leaned over to Hermione and whispered, "I thought we were early?" Hermione just shrugged.

They followed McGonagall through the large oak doors of the Great Hall, and were greeted by the sight of Parvati and Hannah chatting near the end of the Hufflepuff table. Terry Boot and Blaise Zabini were sitting at the end of the Ravenclaw table, and a small group of former students from various houses whom Harry recognized but never knew during his years at Hogwarts were talking animatedly by the Gryffindor table. Draco Malfoy sat alone in the same spot he occupied at the Slytherin table during 7th year. Harry caught Draco's eye just as McGonagall clapped her hands to get their attention.

"May I have your attention, please?"

The chatter stopped immediately and all heads turned to where McGonagall stood in front of the entrance.

"Thank you. First off, I'd like to express my gratitude that you have all come here today at Professor Snape's and my request. ('Well, that explains Draco's willingness to come' Harry thought). You all know why you have been called here today."

Harry's mind wandered back to the Slytherin sitting alone, and he couldn't help but glance towards his direction. Draco was watching McGonagall, an expression bordering on boredom gracing his features. Harry saw Draco's gaze flicker briefly towards him, not quite meeting his own. He felt a gentle poke in his ribs, and turned to see Hermione listening intently to McGonagall but obviously aware of his distraction.

"You've been given your assignments in advance, and hopefully you've all read the material I sent you that will help you in your tasks. Some of you will be paired up to work on the more difficult and complicated spells to make it go a bit quicker. I know you're all as anxious to get back to your homes as I am. So, let's get to it, shall we?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. He hadn't expected to be working with anyone, except maybe with Hermione. He'd prefer to work alone.

"Hermione, Parvati, and Terry - I'd like you three to work on the outer perimeter to try and restore as much as the North Tower as you can. We can work on the wards after that. Hannah, I'd like you to start on the paintings, focusing on those that guard the four house common rooms. Harry and Draco, you will be here restoring the ceiling."

Harry started, clearly not expecting McGonagall of all people to pair him up with the one person she had spent most of her time separating him from during their school years. Harry stole another glance at Draco, who seemed none too surprised at this pairing. His startled glance then shifted to Hermione who was too busy stifling a grin to look Harry in the eye.

The others began to file out of the Hall, going their separate ways to start the massive restoration that lay before them. Luckily, only half of the school suffered extensive damage, with the exception of the gaping hole in the ceiling of the Great Hall from when Dumbledore dealt the fatal curse at Voldemort. Harry stood rooted to the same spot, head bowed, wondering just how to approach the situation.

Harry heard a rustle behind him, and he turned. Draco was still sitting on the bench. He took a small, tattered book from the inside pocket of his robes and opened to a page he had previously marked with a wizard card.

"Are you just going to stand there, or are you planning on actually being of some use today?" Draco kept his eyes on the book, but was clearly speaking to his reluctant partner.

Harry noticed that Draco's sarcasm was still firmly in place, but it lacked the cruelty that it once had. It was, well, almost amused in tone. But it put Harry at ease, for this was something he could work with. Harry admitted to himself long ago that he got a slight thrill out of sparring verbally with Draco.

"Well, I'm not planning on having a Sunday read if that's what you mean." Harry moved towards the table and laid his cloak on the bench.

Draco glanced up lazily at Harry. "This book is going to help us, Potter. I do hope you at least had the brains to read over the material that McGonagall supplied us with? This isn't just about pointing your wand and muttering a few Latin words."

"I know that, Malfoy.

"Actually, this book belonged to Salazar Slytherin and contains quite detailed information on how he and the other founders created this ceiling. I thought it might help," Draco stated matter-of-factly, which only served to unnerve Harry further. Harry took the opportunity to examine a very interesting scuff on his shoe.

"Um, yeah. Good idea." Harry was too busy looking at his feet to notice the playful smirk that flashed across Draco's face.

Draco stood up and walked around the table to stand at Harry's side, following his gaze to the floor. "Nice shoes, Potter," Draco said softly.

Harry jerked his head back up and met Draco's eyes. Draco had a teasing glint in his eyes that Harry could honestly say he's never seen on the blond's face before. For some reason, this small revelation made him blush. Draco either didn't notice, which Harry doubted, or didn't feel like ribbing Harry further.

"Come on, let's get started. I think we should concentrate on separate ends of the ceiling. We'll cover more ground that way by meeting in the middle, and then we can go back over it together to make sure we did a solid job." Draco turned and walked up towards the staff table at the other end of the hall.

Harry stood still for a moment as he observed Draco raise his wand, mutter the appropriate charm, and saw a ghostly blue stream escape from the end and rose towards the ceiling. Harry turned, his back to Draco, and began to do the same.

About an hour later Harry was nearing the middle of the room and could hear Draco's approach at his back. They were nearly at the mid-point and as Harry glanced back and up towards Draco's half, he felt a soft pressure at his back as Draco's body softly collided with his own. An involuntary shiver ran up Harry's spine from the sudden contact. They were shoulder to shoulder, back to back, the hem of Draco's robes spilling over onto Harry's jeans.

"Finished, Potter?" Draco said this in almost a whisper, and Harry half-wondered if Draco wasn't referring to the shivering rather than the ceiling.

"I just need another minute." Harry took a step forward, his feet feeling unusually heavy, and uttered the last charm. He shut his eyes, taking a moment before turning to face Draco, hoping to shake off this sudden hypersensitivity to his surroundings. Maybe it was the result of using such powerful and concentrated magic over a period of time. Maybe it was something else altogether. Harry chose not to analyze things too much.

"Are you alright? Maybe you should sit down. McGonagall did say this could be rather draining." Draco gestured towards the bench at the Ravenclaw table with his left hand, and lightly touched Harry's elbow to guide him over. Harry let himself be led and sat down, tucking his slightly trembling hands underneath his thighs. Draco sat down beside him, close enough that Harry could feel the heat radiating from Draco's body, could smell the spicy lavender scent that was distinctly Draco; the familiar scent bringing on a wave of nostalgia.

"It looks good, don't you think?"

"Mm. Looks nice." Harry brought his hands out from underneath him and clasped them on his lap.

"Want to have a bit of fun?" Draco had mischievous tone that instantly made Harry bristle. And blush.

"What?"

Harry saw Draco raise his wand once more towards the charmed sky.

Harry watched as the bright white thunderheads turned dark gray and emitted flashes of lightening, a faint rumble of thunder following each strike. Draco raised his wand once more and the thunder and lightening ceased, switching over to a light snowfall that swirled in the air above them.

"Wow...we did that!" Harry felt a bit embarrassed at his childlike excitement, and looked to Draco to find that he seemed to be equally impressed with what they had done.

"Yes, we did. Nice job, Potter." Draco held out his hand to Harry, offering a congratulatory handshake. Harry paused perhaps a moment too long before taking Draco's hand in his own and gave it a subtle tug.

Then he felt it. An almost imperceptible caress. Harry glanced down at the hand in his just in time to see the soft movement of Draco's thumb along his own. And then it stopped. Harry wondered if he hadn't imagined it, because Draco showed no sign of having giving him such a tender touch.

"We need to wait about an hour for the sun to go down, then we can start on the night sky. Unless you're not up to it. We can save it for tomorrow night if you like."

Harry tried to clear his head, tried to swallow. "No, no. I'd rather get it finished tonight." Harry looked over at Draco, hoping to see some remnant of the tenderness that he'd felt from him only moments before.
Draco held Harry's gaze, offering nothing, until Harry broke it. He looked out through the large paned windows that lined the western wall.

Draco stood and began to walk towards the doors and announced that he was going to have a look around the rest of the castle to pass the time. He stopped at the entrance and turned his head to look back at Harry, who was still sitting on the bench. "You coming?"

Startled by the invitation, Harry just looked at Draco, then found himself rising from his seat to meet Draco at the doors. "Yeah, why not."

They walked in silence for a bit, side by side and keeping a respectable distance between them. Harry found the silence to be deafening and was about to ask Draco about what he'd been up to since leaving Hogwarts, but Draco beat him to it.

"Still working for the Ministry then, Potter?"

"Uh, yeah. Not too much though, just the odd assignment. I'm a bit too high profile to do anything relatively covert."

"I always figured you'd go out for professional Quidditch. Lose your love of the game?"

"No, no, nothing like that. Just...well, I'm not sure why I didn't actually. The Ministry approached me the day after our final exams and offered me work and, well, I just took it."

"Hmm. Sure it wasn't something else?"

"What do you mean?" Harry said rather defensively.

"Well, I suppose that if the Ministry asked you to help out that Quidditch would've been pushed to the back of your mind regardless if you wanted it or not. You always did things like that. It's just your nature."

"What's that supposed to mean, Malfoy?" Harry was definitely defensive now. How dare Draco presume to know why he was motivated to do or not do anything?

"Relax, Potter. I meant it as a compliment. Just pointing out that you put others first. No shocking revelation there."

"Oh. Uh, thanks." Harry went from being defensive to being completely confused. A compliment. From Draco. In all appearances genuine. Harry's neck felt hot and he tried to shift the focus off himself.

"What have you been doing?"

"Collecting wizard cards."

Harry glared at Draco, but couldn't help bursting into laughter when he saw the teasing smile on Draco's face. "Very funny. I tried to buy them all up just to burn them, but they wouldn't agree to stop making them."

Harry had been 'awarded' the card after the final defeat of Voldemort, much to his chagrin. He wasn't surprised that Draco would've heard about it. Harry snickered at the image of Draco burning one or two of them in effigy.

"So aside from collecting wizard cards, what have you been filling your time with?"

Draco let out a soft laugh. "I can't tell you that."

"Fine."

"No, really, I can't tell you. I'd have to kill you if I did." There was a slight twinge of amusement when Draco uttered that last part.

Harry looked at Draco sideways to see an unfamiliar grin being given to him.

"Ah, I get it. I wondered about that. Hermione had heard you had joined the Unspeakables."

"Well, it's not exactly a secret amongst Ministry employees. I suppose Weasley would have heard from his father. Weasley and Granger are married now, aren't they?"

"Yeah, almost two years now. Hermione just had a baby actually. A girl. Leatrice, after Hermione's grandmother."

"How nice for them,"

Harry had expected this to be said with a sneer, but found the sentiment to be quite genial. Harry was losing track of the number of times Draco had thrown his assumptions off track so far today.

They rounded a corner of a hallway that Harry wasn't sure he recognized. Along one wall were various portraits (still in disarray and begging for restoration), and the opposite wall was lined with high windows. At the end of the corridor was another hallway that had a large rectangular mirror all along its surface. Harry could watch himself and Draco make their ascent up the corridor. Harry looked out the windows; the sky was turning a dusty pink along the horizon, signaling sundown. They had settled into another surprisingly comfortable silence as they walked slowly, Draco setting the unhurried pace.

"Distracted, Potter?"

"Why, do I seem distracted?"

"Yes."

"Can I ask you something, Malfoy?"

"You just did." Draco caught Harry's eye and smirked.

Harry was just deciding that he simply could not handle a joking and playful Draco Malfoy, when the blond stopped and leaned against the wall, awaiting Harry's question.

"Why did you do it? Why did you switch sides?"

Draco's expression changed immediately to one of seriousness and something else Harry couldn't quite put a name to. "I don't have to answer that."

"I know you don't, but I wish you would." Harry found his voice was barely above a whisper.

"I had my reason, Harry."

Harry didn't seem to notice the sudden use of his first name, nor the fact that Draco had cited only one reason.

"Is it true that Dumbledore didn't know? That Snape was the only one that knew?"

Draco sunk further against the wall, bowing his head slightly. "Yes."

"Why didn't you tell Dumbledore?" Harry took a step closer and continued, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Draco didn't move, keeping his head down but moved his gaze from the floor to the window just behind Harry's shoulder. Harry noticed Draco was biting the inside of his lip, that being the only sign that Draco was nervous about the current line of questioning.

"Why would I tell you? We hated each other, remember?"

"But, if we had known - if I had known - things...things could have been different."

Draco looked at Harry, his pale brows slightly furrowed. "Different how?"

"I don't know. Just...different." Harry continued to hold Draco's gaze and the dozens of emotions that were flickering in his grey eyes. Draco was definitely hiding something.

Draco finally looked away, pushing himself away from the wall and turned to continue up the corridor. Harry couldn't figure out why Draco's unwillingness to confide in Harry angered him, seeing as how neither of them had ever done anything remotely like that with one another before, but seeing Draco turn his back and walk away angered him nonetheless.

"I guess it wouldn't matter anyway, would it, Malfoy? I'm sure you had your own selfish reasons for it. As long as you got out okay in the end, damn everyone else, right?" Harry hadn't intended for this to come out quite so sharply, but it did. He watched Draco stop, bow his head for a moment, then raise it again and continue his way up the corridor. Draco finally reached the end of the hallway and Harry could see Draco looking at his reflection in the mirror. Harry was too far away to see the obvious hurt and regret present in Draco's expression. Then he watched as Draco turned and disappeared around the corner.

"Shit! Why can't you ever shut your own mouth, Potter?" Harry chastised himself for turning a perfectly pleasant conversation with Draco into the interrogation it had become. He wanted to leave. Leave Hogwarts, and just go back home to sulk in private. He had nearly made up his mind to do just that when the idea of having to explain to not only Hermione, but also to McGonagall why he had left without doing what he promised to do.

Harry shuffled his feet as he turned in the direction he had come from, alone, and headed back to the Great Hall. Harry briefly entertained the idea that Draco would've been angry or upset enough to leave as well, but the thought of Draco having left for the night both relieved and frustrated him.

Harry took his time getting back, stopping occasionally to see if an abandoned staircase or secret alcove was in the same spot that it used to be. He pushed away the thoughts that demanded to be heard; the thoughts that told him he wasn't over this silly schoolboy crush, the thoughts that told him it was probably much more than a silly schoolboy crush. He entertained the idea of seeking out Hermione to talk about it, but opted not to when he realized how dark it had gotten outside. He decided to head back to the Hall, finish what he came here to do - with or without Draco - and then go home for that sulk.

By the time Harry had finished his trek back to the Hall, he had nearly convinced himself that Draco would be too irritated with him to even stand the sight of him, and had probably left. Therefore, he was surprised yet again when he walked through the doors to see Draco propped up against the staff table waiting for him.

"Let's get started. I want to get back to home." Draco's tone lacked the friendliness it had earlier. It was cold and...hurt? Harry conceded. They spent the rest of their task in silence aside from the utterances of spells and charms.

*~*

"You ready to go, Harry?" Hermione was fastening up her cloak and watching Harry stare up at the now finished ceiling.

"Yeah. I'm ready." Harry grabbed his own cloak from the bench and swung it around his shoulders.

They met at the doors and headed down to the Main Entrance together. His mind went back to another opportunity lost just moments ago when he had worked up the courage to apologize to Draco, but was stopped by Hermione's appearance in the Hall. Draco had simply walked out, without even a glance in Harry's direction, and paused only to say 'congratulations' to Hermione on the new baby as he departed. Hermione commented on how nice it was for him to mention it, and Harry only sighed in response. She took that as her cue to drop the subject of Draco Malfoy.

McGonagall was waiting for them by the Main Entrance to see them out. "You're the last two to leave, not that I'm surprised. Your thoroughness is most impressive Mrs. Weasley." Hermione blushed. Harry had to smile at the fact that even as an adult, McGonagall could still make her feel like a first year getting points awarded for her house.

"I take it you two are going to be taking the Floo home from the Three Broomsticks? I told Madam Rosmerta to expect a few stragglers. Parvati and Hannah left about half an hour ago. Mr. Malfoy just left, of course, but he's not going home tonight. He's staying in Hogsmeade since he'll be returning quite early tomorrow morning to assist Professor Snape."

Harry's attention was definitely focused on this last statement. Draco hadn't gone home yet. In fact, he was staying in Hogsmeade.

"So, they still rent out cottages in Hogsmeade then?"

"Oh, the odd one here and there. Not like they used to though. They became must less trusting to outsiders after the war. You can't blame them really, not with everything happening so close to home. Why, Mr. Malfoy found an absolutely charming one up on that little hill near where the Shrieking Shack used to be."

"Well, we should get going then. Don't want to keep you up, Professor McGonagall." Harry grabbed Hermione by the arm a little too abruptly and began to lead her outside.

"Harry! You nearly made me trip over my own feet! What's the sudden ru...oh! You're going to go see him, aren't you?"

"I need to apologize."

"Apologize for what? What happened?"

"Well, I sort of said he was a selfish bastard, though not in so many words."

"Well, it wouldn't be entirely untrue." Hermione was nearly at a jog, trying to keep up with Harry's long and hurried strides.

"But in this case it was. I asked him why he switched sides, why he didn't tell anyone. I got mad when he wouldn't answer me and accused him of doing it for his own selfish reasons no matter who got hurt in the end."

"Oh Harry, you didn't!? You know that's how his father died. That would be a horrible burden to bear, for anyone. Imagine being the one to lay the trap that your own father inadvertently stepped straight into."

"Enough Hermione, I get it. I fucked up."

Hermione watched Harry's shoulders sag dejectedly. She had always remained relatively quiet where Harry's feelings for Draco were concerned, but she could recognize when things were coming to fruition, and that moment was now.

"So go apologize then."

"What?"

"I said go apologize. You should, really. It was a horrible thing to say."

Harry looked at Hermione like she had sprouted tentacles.

"Don't look at me like that Harry James Potter. Okay, so I haven't been Mal...Draco's biggest supporter in the past, but I know what he did for our side. For us. For you."

"For me?"

"God Harry, sometimes you can be so thick. Didn't you ever wonder why you got mysteriously sick two days before Voldemort attacked?"

"I know why I got sick! I got sick because Draco screwed up that Sleeping Draught when we got paired up in Potions and..." A sudden realization hit Harry, a wave of clarity that stopped him dead in his tracks.

"When have you ever known Draco Malfoy to mess up a potion, Harry?"

"I...I..."

"Yeah, I know. You didn't put two and two together. And who could blame you, really. I feel bad for not telling you this sooner Harry. I had thought about telling you at the time, but then you found out about Dumbledore getting hit, and I didn't want to burden you. After that, well, I just didn't think it was important. After Dumbledore died a month later we never even saw Draco again. Well, until now."

Harry could feel the wheels turning in his head, felt a piece of the puzzle snap into place. These past three years he had tortured himself with guilt over not being the one to fight Voldemort in the end. He had cursed his own weakness at getting sick and putting Dumbledore in that position when it was his own destiny to fulfill. While Harry was lying in the hospital wing being nursed back to health from a particularly bad bought of stomach flu, Voldemort had attacked the school. Dumbledore faced off against him, but that final Cruciatus Curse dealt by Voldemort had weakened the Headmaster beyond recovery. Dumbledore had used his final reserve of strength to deliver the killing curse, and had died a month later. Harry thought he'd never forgive himself for that.

As these thoughts swirled around Harry's brain, Hermione stood patiently by him.

"Harry, are you alright? You're not angry, are you?"

"Angry? No. Should I be?"

"Well, no. But the thought did occur to me that you might turn the blame onto Draco for Dumbledore getting killed. But you shouldn't do that, Harry. Promise me you won't do that."

Harry looked at her now, astonishment in his eyes. "I don't blame Draco." This came out almost as much a question as an answer.

"Good, because you shouldn't. Dumbledore knew what was going to happen and..."

Harry had stopped hearing her and started walking the trail towards Hogsmeade again. There were a thousand thoughts racing through his mind at once, but two in particular coming to the forefront. Draco had gotten Harry sick on purpose so that he wouldn't be on the front line when Voldemort attacked. He had probably saved Harry's life. More importantly though, Harry didn't blame Draco for forcing Dumbledore in his place even though it resulted in his death. Voldemort was the only one to blame for that, and Harry gave silent thanks to his own heart for knowing the difference.

"Harry! Harry where are you going?"

He turned to look at Hermione, who was now standing under the awning for the Three Broomsticks. Were they there already?

"I can't go yet, 'Mione. I have to see him."

"I know that, you pillock. But you passed the turn that leads to hill back there." Hermione pointed over her shoulder and smiled sweetly. Harry rushed up to her, gave her a chaste kiss on the lips in thanks, and headed back towards the small pathway that led to the hill.

Just as Harry turned the corner, a sudden explosion of thunder sounded overhead. "Great, that's all I need. And here I am with no umbrella and a flimsy cloak." Hogsmeade had enough lanterns still lit that Harry could still see the pathway, even though ominous clouds were quickly shrouding the moon.

Harry pulled the cloak tighter around his shoulders and shoved his hands in his pockets, preparing for the downpour that was sure to start. He made a surprising discovery in his left pocket. It was a small book. Harry pulled the book out of his pocket, wondering when he had left it there, and was surprised to find that it wasn't his book at all. It was Draco's. It was the book that Draco had brought with him that day to help construct the ceiling.

"Why did you leave me this?" Harry muttered to himself as he let the book fall open. There in the middle of the page was a small wizard card. Harry felt his mouth fall open as the face that peered up at him was his own. Draco had kept Harry's wizard card.

Harry slammed the book shut and shoved it back into his pocket. A steady rain began to fall as Harry was overcome with a newfound determination to face Draco. His feelings of guilt over having said what he did to Draco earlier were replaced by an angry confusion over why Draco had to make things so difficult. He had been getting mixed signals from the Slytherin ever since this afternoon - teasing him, joking with him, that single touch that still burned on Harry's hand...and what was Draco's reason? Was the reason Draco didn't want to tell Harry why he had switched sides because he had done it for him? Harry got the distinct impression that Draco had been playing games with him all these years, intentional or not, and literally growled at the thought that they had wasted so much time already. As a steady and hard rain began to fall, Harry felt an overwhelming need to get an answer - an explanation from Draco - and found himself walking up the final stone pathway and knocking loudly on the cottage door.

There was no answer. Harry walked around the corner and could see a soft light through a window towards the back. Harry walked back to the front door and knocked again. He was just about to shout for Draco to open up when the door swung open.

Draco looked at Harry, clothes soaked through from the hard rain and a look of fierce determination on his face.

"Har-"

"Why did you have to make everything so damned difficult?!" Before Draco had a chance to reply, Harry grabbed the front of Draco's shirt and pulled him roughly against his body. He watched as Draco's eyes widened, heard a small gasp escape the blond's lips, and wasted no time in capturing Draco's mouth with his own.

~*~

Draco's eyes closed as Harry's hands forced contact. He knew what was coming...could feel Harry stepping even closer, could feel the heat that radiated from Harry's body collide with his own...could hear the quickness in his breath, Harry's short gasps tickling his skin...could feel rain-soaked skin crashing into his own... Draco felt a hitching breath escape his lungs.

Harry's excruciatingly soft lips pressed harshly to his. Draco could feel a low moan start in Harry's throat...his mouth opened slightly to let the moan escape and work it's way into Draco's own. He opened a little more, Draco gave the invitation for him to invade...desperate to taste all that he was offering...his tongue dived into Draco's mouth...

Harry tasted excruciatingly sweet. His tongue traced the curves on the roof of Draco's mouth, then forced contact with his own...Harry pulled back just enough to run his tongue along the inside of Draco's lower lip, then crushed into him again...Harry traced small circles along the sensitive skin inside Draco's cheek...

Draco let his hands reach behind Harry's neck. His fingers curled into the soft, wet hair at the nape...he felt Harry trying to pull him closer still, raising Draco slightly off the ground as his hands shifted to Draco's waist...his ribcage felt like it was about to be crushed from the intense pressure of Harry's hold...

Draco felt Harry's leg wrap around his own...as if trying to melt Draco into his own body. He felt Harry's hips crushed against his...grinding into him...a dark heat enveloped Draco as his entire being focused on that mouth, getting as deep as he could, needing to get to Harry's soul...

Draco needed to say Harry's name, needed to make him hear that Harry possessed him completely, to the point that it would be the only word Draco would ever need to say again. He felt Harry's name vibrate in his throat...only a strangled moan escaped...Harry's fingers pressed into Draco's spine, almost painfully, like a divine hurt...

Harry's other hand gripped the back of Draco's head, his fingers getting tangled in the strands...Draco felt Harry trying to push him closer still...he felt like he could fall into Harry...let their bodies remain forever joined...Draco couldn't get close enough, would never get close enough...

Draco freed a hand and moved it to Harry's waist...scrambled to push the cloak aside...the wet fabric of Harry's cloak slipped repeatedly through Draco's hands...Draco emitted a low growl in frustration...Harry's tongue did amazing and beautiful things to Draco's palate in response...

He needed to feel more skin, needed to have every inch of Harry's body under his fingertips...Draco's other hand left Harry's neck...slid down and under Harry's jumper...Draco's trembling hands burned against Harry's flesh...Draco's nails scraped and marked this newly claimed territory as wholly his own...

Draco heard a whimper escape from Harry as his nails scratched into the flesh. Draco felt the cold, harsh separation of their mouths as Harry arched his back against Draco's hands...Draco clenched his fist against the front of Harry's cloak and stepped back towards the door...Harry had a look of unadulterated pleading in his eyes...

"You don't want this?"

"God, Harry, I'm just trying to get you in the bloody door!"

Draco took a moment to catch his breath before smirking mischievously, "If you think I'm going to let you nail me out here in the rain and mud, you're out of your mind."

Draco yanked the front of Harry's cloak and pulled him across the threshold, slamming the door shut behind them.

They never made it to the bedroom.